Never Using Green
by Kashimalin
Summary: Anthony "Tony" Harrison is a gallery manager who happens to meet an upcoming young artist named Paige Witte. Together they form a bond over art, teaching, and time... and meet many other members of the cast throughout their lives, and they must either befriend them or get out them out of their way... (Human!AU for Don't Hug Me I'm Scared characters from all videos.)
1. Chapter 1

Tony held the paper before him as he read the sentence in bold. "Try to imagine a life without timekeeping." Intrigued, he kept reading the passage that had been included with the picture that someone had submitted.

"_You probably can't. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie. Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays. Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures. A fear of time running out."_

Tony couldn't help but smile as he looked at the picture included, appropriately titled "Timekeeping". It was of many animals all danced out from the center towards the frame, while a single man was stuck inside a circle that was not unlike a clock, seemingly unable to get out.

And he adored the piece. Struck a cord with him. But, alas, he was not able to approve it for the gallery they wanted to submit to. All he could do was push it to the superiors. They were very easy people, to, accepting more works than they could take on, and then those they denied were all the wrong ones to deny. That aggravated him whenever he walked through the gallery to admire (without expressing his true dislike for) the new art placed there every two weeks.

Being a business major was one of the most difficult things to be, he supposed.

Walking out of his office, Tony closed his door and locked it behind him. But before he could turn away, a young lady showed up. Momentarily stunned at her rainbow hair, he could only raise his eyebrows in silence.

"Am I too late? It's Friday and your card says you don't do weekends, so…" The young lady held the large square in her hands up a little more.

"Ah, I mean…" Tony did want to be home on time, but he wasn't about to deny a young lady who had obviously rushed to get here so quickly. There was still that schedule, that same schedule…

"All right, let's see it, then. And I don't believe I caught your name."

"Paige Witte," she said, without extending a hand to shake his as she unraveled the painting from the cloth.

"…Tony Harrison." Pulling back his hand, his eyes grew in wonder as he saw what lay beneath the painting. It was a self-portrait, that only used reds and the white of the canvas. The artwork was almost stunning.

"Did you major in art, might I ask?" Delicately taking the artwork from her, she placed her arms behind her back and smiled. "I did, indeed. Fine Arts major form Oxford."

Tony couldn't actually contain his excitement at meeting someone like that. "You should submit this right away! If anything, just say you're from Oxford, they'll be sure to accept it. You'll be a star in the local gallery."

Paige smiled even more, showing teeth and swaying side to side a little bit. "I'm very glad you think so."

"Naturally. I'll do my best to get in a good word for you with them, but no promises that I'll have any good influence."

"That's all right, honest. But you do really think it can get into the gallery?"

"Of course!" Handing it back to her, Paige briefly hugged him out of excitement.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She would get in, it was a picture of a beautiful lady, and those fools could not resist the appeal of young beauty.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony had managed to get Miss Witte's picture in the gallery, but not the Timekeeping painting. Sad at the lack of being able to do such, he wandered through until he saw the crowd around her self-portrait. And there she was, a few steps away, smiling gleefully at the people who surrounded her work of art.

It was of her face, a profile, all colored in red and black. She stared up at flowers in the upper left corner, all dripping like blood. The hums of admiration came from the crowd, and Tony went to stand next to her.

"It's a lovely painting, no wonder there's a crowd."

Surprised, she turned to him with wide eyes, then, realizing who it was, softened and turned back. "I suppose that's good, I just wonder if my other paintings could warrant such attention. That was my best piece."

Tony sighed, wondering if it was too forward to ask to go to her studio to see the paintings. It was the most logical way of judging, but he supposed she could always bring them in to see.

"I'll bring them in, at some point for you to see, but…"

"Would it be easier if I came over?"

Paige shook her head rapidly. "No, no, I'll bring them in! It won't be too difficult!"

Clearly that wasn't the path she was going down earlier, but that was fine by him. Nodding, he realized that his manager was waving him over with a grin. Excusing himself from Paige's company, he briskly stepped over and was pulled into the office.

"Anthony, Anthony! Look, that girl you were talking with… she painted that picture, right?"  
"She did," Tony said, tilting his head slightly, with a mental groan. He hated people calling him Anthony. "Why do you ask?"

"The newspaper wants to interview her. They want to know what compels her dark and beautiful style."

"Ah!" Tony gave a thoughtful nod, understanding the situation. "Of course, of course. Would you like me to tell her to stay?"

"Naturally."

On the other side of town, a man was shaking a young boy awake.

"Dennis, come on, it's time to wake up. Your nap's gone long enough, and Terry's finished making dinner."

Groaning, Dennis flipped over, trying to rub his eyes and the man merely ruffled his blue hair even more, causing Dennis to squirm and try to pull at Ragnell's long red locks. "Nooo, don't do that, Daddy."

Sighing, he lifted Dennis out of bed. "My name is Ragnell, not Daddy, you know that." Carrying him into the kitchen, Terry looked up and pulled the hairnet away from his brown hair, letting it fall loosely.

"You don't need to do that; nothing will fall into your soups." Ragnell set Dennis down in his chair, who began to wake up at the smell of Terry's soups, which had really improved since he arrived.

"I know, but it happened once, and I can't let it go." Stirring again, Ragnell knew there was no winning against the kid, despite his philosophy major. The kid was a genius. Or something like that. They could have the conversation of two men who had lived very long lives after Dennis was in bed.

"Dennis, how much soup do you want in your special bowl?" Holding up the cracked china bowl, Terry was careful to not spill what was already inside of it.

"The usual!"

Sliding out of the chair with a thump, he ran to Terry and took his bowl and Ragnell's, determined to help, despite the fact Ragnell always got up to take them in case he dropped one or both of them.

They couldn't afford to break another bowl.


	3. Chapter 3

Paige sat down in the chair wearing the best dress she owned, a beautiful white one with a flared skirt and low neck. Black tights almost made her legs more slim, Tony noted from the shadows behind the lights that were aimed on her.

The interviewer coughed and quickly flicked through his papers before raising three fingers. "We're live in three, two…"

Tony took that chance to give Paige a thumbs-up, causing her to smile as the cameras went on and the interviewer asked his first question.

"So, there was a lot of hype about you in the art gallery this week, Miss Witte. Can you tell us why you think people were so drawn to your art?"

In an almost perfectly scripted response, she gave the reply the city would know and expect. "I'm not sure. There must be a symbolic meaning in my self-portraits, something that draws people into them and makes them find little details in themselves and the picture. For example, people don't notice until a few looks that the flowers in the profile are actually made of many little sticks and leaves."

A couple more questions about her schooling, history, family were asked, then came the million dollar question…

"Do you think there is something that inspires your creative muse in such a dark and elegant way?"

Tony looked up from his iPhone. He had been waiting for this question, but didn't think it would come up.

"Well, not really. There's nothing in my past that influences my current art style, or what I see in the future. It's just how I feel about my art and my favorite colors. Brown, red, peach, blue…"

"You were also able to submit a few of your pictures into us before the interview…"

Tony felt a little offended. He hadn't approved any of them first, even seen them. How had these people gotten the privilege to look at them, but not him? Either way, he'd see them soon enough.

"…You don't seem to use any green, even in your pictures of the forest. It's all dark purples and grays. Is there any reason why you don't use it?"

"…I simply don't like the color green."


	4. Chapter 4

Ragnell quietly stood before the painting in the gallery. The picture he had read about in the paper was stunning. He admired the strokes, the accents… and how it was already behind glass, as if she was a famous artist.

He had also watched the gallery owners hang up a new painting of hers; it was another portrait of a person's body part… an eye.

It was almost a photograph. People instantly flocked to it, but Ragnell looked from afar. He could see was the massive eye that came out from under a sweaty brow. There were images filling the eye, all around the pained pupil…

War. Death. It was a portrait of someone who had seen everything, and relived it everyday. That was what they were seeing.

"Do you like it?"

Ragnell looked to the right of him to she a young lady, rainbow hair dyed every color, except green. He was amazed at how much pastel dye she should hold in her hair. Ragnell felt the urge to touch it and see if it was even real.

"It's a visually simulating picture." He gave a sigh. "I enjoy seeing things that make the people think. As a Philosophy major, I appreciate the ideas behind paintings which people create. For example, I take it this painting represents PTSD?"

"Nail on the head." Paige felt the urge to paint him, because she knew that his whole figure would be a challenge. The strong build, the long hair pulled back into a braid, and a rather nice French braid at that, and the neutral clothing.

Certainly a challenge.

"I saw your interview on TV. I watched it with my kids."

"Oh? I hope they weren't offended by my few works of art shown."

"Nah, those kids have seen enough in their lifetimes that it doesn't really bother them. Not my intention, honestly, but still."

"I'm sure that you're a very good father to them, far better than their parents ever were."

"Ah, you guessed right. Adopted."

"…Well, I'm sorry for occupying your time. Take this." She flicked out a small card. "I might start painting commissions soon, or something of that sort. So my personal manager… excuse me, the assistant manager here recommended that I make these sooner rather than later."

With a smile, she spun around and walked okay.

Subconsciously, Ragnell gingerly touched his braided hair. _Ugh!_ Most embarrassing hairstyle to have on meeting such a pretty lady! She probably thought he was a damn weirdo. But he liked his French braids… maybe she didn't think him so weird, then. Did she even see his hair, and if so-

"Oh, excuse me!"

Ragnell stepped aside, and a man with a mustache squeezed by through him and the crowd. "Thank you, apologies."

He stepped in front of Ragnell and held out his hand. "I noticed you talking to Miss Witte. Are you an acquaintance of hers?"

"Nothing of the sort, sir." At that comment, he quickly pulled back his hand as Ragnell went out to shake it.

_White gloves? What pretentious people, these art gallery folks are_.

"Ah, well then. Apologies for disturbing you."

"Anthony, come here!" A man suddenly grabbed the black jacket of Tony and pulled him along. "Have a good day-!" he yelled to Ragnell before turning a corner.

Ragnell stared at him, puzzled to the man's behavior and actions. He wondered if he was just hypocritical because of his degree.

"Miss Witte?" Tony opened the door as delicately as he could, trying to not disturb her in his office. "I know it's daunting to give autographs and pass out cards, but really. Your fame is increasing! Soon, there will be people lining up outside your door!"

"I hope not." Paige mumbled as she gave a spin in his cushy office chair.

"Come now," Tony said soothingly, coming over and stopping the chair mid-spin. "Miss Witte, I'll be there to support you. Just give the signal, and I'll whisk you away. Deal?"

She looked up and smiled. "…Deal."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N : Due to the recent video, headcanons, and theories popping up, Durante/Danny's name has now been officially changed to "Dennis". Now, toot your horns and throw your confetti for the release of DHMIS3!_

Ragnell saw it in the local newspaper, he wasn't stalking the art gallery or anything like that. He just realized that he and Paige had met only at the art gallery and never really traded numbers, or e-mails, or addresses… So this meant he had to see her again.

It was a kid's art session, where Paige was doing an interactive activity where they would discuss the rainbow and paint a couple pictures together. He was happy to see an art class for them, since he knew the one at the school wasn't very good to begin with.

But he couldn't go take it himself, it was for little kids!

"…Dennis! Terry! We're going out to the library!"

"Oh boy!" Dennis bounds excitedly down the stairs with Terry in tow, who seems less than willing as he nearly drops a book he's checked out. "But I haven't finished all my books yet. I'll only be able to return a few…"

Ragnell shrugged it off and helped Dennis get his jacket on while Terry went back up to get his books.

After Ragnell took them to the library and Terry got out even more books than Ragnell argued he could handle, creating a stir in front of the checkout counter, he took them a different route home, tugging Dennis's hand so that he might see the sign on the gallery's door. Terrance knew that something was up when he recognized this was not the quickest way home, but didn't say a word.

"Oh, daddy, look! There's an art thingy going on! And look, you can see Isabella!"

Ragnell looked inside to see that his friend from the youth group he used to be a part of was inside. After Ragnell deemed it dangerous to let him out of the house when his father started wandering in to see him, creating a stir, he pulled him out, causing Dennis to miss his friend.

Terry rolled his eyes, and Ragnell made a face back at him before opening one of the glass doors and letting him run across the hall, where people's legs were pushed by the small boy.

"Isabella, Isabella - "

"Shush!" His friend held a finger to lips, and Paige stopped reading her story book about colors to glance over at them, but then smiled. "Hello there, young man! Are you here to also listen?"

Dennis looked to Isabella, who nodded. He nodded at Paige.

Terrance, however, stayed behind. Ragnell looked to where he was clutching his jacket.

"What's the matter?"

"Her hair and expression frightens me."

_Frightens him?_ Ragnell looked back to Paige, and felt his stomach keel over. She looked so happy sitting with those children, giving a lovely smile and flipping pages so that they could see every new color inside the pages.

"Don't you see there's no green on those rainbows?" Terry pointed as Ragnell walked away from the door so people could leave.

"You're overreacting, Terrance. Calm down for a moment so that maybe you can enjoy this painting." He pointed to one of an ocean, and Terrance was captured by the details on the fish long enough to forget anything about being afraid, and rather shifting to a conversation with Ragnell about the deepness of oceans and about the iceberg idea of the mind and if they can actually go that deep. Anybody who might have listened in on the conversation would believe that Terrance was older than he really looked, or was some sort of child genius, which was no exaggeration for the latter.

After it was all over, Ragnell slid away from Terrance, who could handle himself, so that he could talk to Paige.

"Hello," he said, wishing how he'd maybe brushed his mane of hair. Paige looked over and brightened when she saw him. "Hello! It's good to see you again. Might I mention that your son is a doll?" She bent over and pinched his cheek. "An absolute sweetie-pie."

When she stands up again, she notices someone a ways behind Ragnell, but clearly staring straight at her, near a young boy staring at a picture of an ocean, which used tones of blue and that accursed color.

Trying to ignore him, she looks back to Ragnell. "So, about what you're here for…"

"Ah, yes, I meant to ask…" He feels a pair of eyes staring into his back, and pauses, starting to turn around to look, when Paige suddenly perks up.

"Yes, um, about…? Something? Painting? Books?"

Ragnell's attention is snared by her again, and he shakes his head no. "It's about dinner, actually."

Paige gets the memo, and then quickly digs into her pocket of her fancy black dress pants. "Here, a business card. Finally got one. I know I gave you a card previously, but that number is outdated, and had no e-mail, which I prefer to use. And also, don't plan for anywhere fancy. I'm fine with simple." Nodding, then winking, she walked off, Ragnell glancing back to see her walking over to a young man who looked like the one who's hand he had shaken a while ago.

_Ah!_ Ragnell looked away when the man's glance briefly shifted to him and back to Paige again. "Come on, Dennis, let's go." He pulled him along, and walked past The Man and Paige to grab Terrance, who was now standing particularly close to The Man. "Let's go." He pulled Terrance away, who seemed to snap out of a trance. "Ah, okay, coming coming!" He pulled out of Ragnell's grip and ran out with him, making sure that Dennis kept up as well.

Anthony and Paige stared until they left, but then Tony's head whipped right back to Paige when the glass door shut.

"Why on Earth would you accept something like that?" Tony's accusing tone, as if she were a child and had done something very wrong, offended Paige. "You have a schedule to maintain, meetings to attend, and other things to do! I don't understand why you must insist on going out for… pointless dinners."

"…I am a master of my own destiny, Anthony. You shouldn't keep me locked on a schedule, and that I can do whatever I please whenever I please." And with that, she spun on her heel and went back to the children who were by the book, pointing at pictures.

Anthony growled, feeling the anger inside him fill to the brim. Storming to his office, he shut the door as calmly as he could before exploding, knocking a painting off his desk along with multiple other papers. Gritting his teeth and biting back the urge to scream, he was about to tackle his bookshelves the church bells began to toll.

The sound reminded him to calm down. There was so much to do. Five o'clock. The gallery closed in an hour. He had to figure out still what he wanted for dinner, what to change into for the night, if he should approve the painting on his desk… or on the floor, now, he mused as he picked it up.

"Perhaps," he said, as he stared at the painting, one of Eve, biting the dangerous apple which was covered with images of death, the Devil, and the seven sins, "Perhaps she will realize that man is not worth her time at all."

Placing the artwork on the desk, he went to get his papers and close his window as the breeze caused the curtains to flutter, and the last bell tone faded into the evening air.

"Perhaps she will realize just how much of a sorry, poor sod he is."


	6. Chapter 6

"This should look great on you, daddy!"

In the two weeks Ragnell had been e-mailing the charmingly sweet Paige Witte back and forth, they had decided on dinner at a small restaurant that she had apparently been meaning to try since she arrived. He'd also given up on trying to make Dennis stop calling him "daddy", deciding that it was pointless to make him stop. He'll just have two people to call "Dad" now.

Terrance sat behind him, the Wikihow on braiding hair open on the laptop.

"I can't believe your hands were too shaky to do this. I'm glad you're trying to quit and all, for Dennis's sake, but honestly." Terry leaned over to look at Ragnell's nervous face. "And you're going to be fine with her. Just charm her up. Do that talking thing you're so good at."

"Just because my Public Speaking 101 class at college was painfully easy for me does not mean I am good at personal, intimate conversation." Ragnell sighed as he stared at the ashtray near his chair by the television.

"Stop looking there," Terry said without missing a heartbeat as he started to wind a band around the bottom of the hair. "There, that should work fine. I believe I did all right." He nodded at his work just as Dennis came running back. "Your outfit's on the bed, daddy!"

Ragnell heaved himself up with a grunt and rubbed Dennis's hair, which was steadily growing longer. "Thanks, kiddo. Glad that you're both here to help me." Lifting Dennis up, he walked to the bathroom. "Time for your bath. Terry will make sure you're fine in washing your hair."

"All right!" He grinned and looked down at Terry behind them. "You'll put the bubble bath in this time, right?"

Ragnell set him down and they scurried away, as he looked into the room, he saw the mismatched outfit on the bed and picked out what he had actually meant to wear, only feeling the slightest bit guilty about putting it back, and decided to at least wear the grey pants that Dennis had picked out.

Back at the gallery, Paige had a very different story. Her hair pulled into a multicolored bun, and looking rather nice in simple white dress with black tights and shoes, she started to leave Tony's office, pulling the door shut to click locked behind her.

However, she stopped halfway through the long hallway.

"…I know you're still here, Anthony."

He glanced up from his spot in the shadows. "I'm wearing all black. Thought you might not see me at all after hours today."

Paige turned back and placed a hand on her lip. "Honestly? I've gotten better at seeing you in a crowd. You're always lurking around the gallery."

"Now, lurking's a negative word, wouldn't you say? I merely observe the crowd, see what they like, make my plans."

"You're only an assistant manager, you can't make any changes."

"Being so negative, Miss Witte." Tony stepped over to her, standing straight and all. She never quite noticed how much taller he was than her before now. She only came up to about his chest, and if she stood a little taller, still a full head away he loomed above her. He could beat her in almost any fight and they both knew it. In that silence, they both decided one thing: they hated each other.

"Enjoy your dinner."

And with that, he turned to leave, the glass door slowly shutting behind him.

Paige stood there, staring at the door, before shaking the thought away and leaving herself, muttering _"What a creep."_

. . .

"…And quite honestly, that's why I was late." Paige said, shrugging off the thought again as Ragnell nodded while sipping his water.

"I see. I can imagine what was going through your mind to create such a beautifully crafted sentence that was only three words long." With a smile to show he was joking, Paige couldn't help but smile back. Pulling a pencil out of her pocket, she took another napkin and started sketching on it.

"You never did mention your education while we were together."

"Really?" Ragnell raised an eyebrow. He was sure he said something.

"Nothing at all."

Ragnell couldn't recall when he mentioned it, but he was sure he must have. But the conversation pulled him back before he went too far into his memory.

"I clearly am an art student, what about you? Your major and schooling? Current job? Family status?" It was obvious she was trying her hardest to make conversation from an awkward situation of silence, and focusing mostly on the drawing was her way of coping.

"Ah, let's see, I'm a philosophy major… and I currently don't have a decent job in it. I work at the supermarket bagging groceries."

Paige raised an eyebrow, done with the sketch layer and now making features. It was clear she was listening.

"I don't talk to family much, and raising two boys is probably the most difficult endeavor I've ever decided to take on in my life."

"How did you even start raising them?"

"…That's a personal question I'd rather not answer right now, if you don't mind."

"Perfectly fine. I don't talk to my family much now, either. Hard when they're so far away. I should probably check up on them."

"Smart idea." Ragnell was silent as he spun his thumbs around each other and bit his tongue. What else was there to say?

"…What do you think about colors?"

Paige looked up. Finally, something that captured her interest.

"You mean, like, color theory? Or the colors of the rainbow?"

"Just, colors."

"Well, people believe that red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and purple are the basic colors of the world because they make up the rainbow. Red and blue and yellow are primary colors. But really, that's a load of crap. Try magenta, cyan, and yellow. Much better results." She smiled, only her eyes shifting up to glance at him before she started on the eyes.

"Any reasons why you think it's those colors?"

"Well, they can combine to be any color. Think about your color printers. CMYK color printing? Ever think about that?"

Their conversation continued through to food and after on the way home, about color theory and how they could change your emotions, and base your entire personality on just what colors they chose for a test.

After Ragnell reached his house, he noticed he had just subconsciously been going to his house, since she hadn't mentioned a thing about her house.

There was a silence as they walked to the doorstep and stood on the small step before the door. Ragnell felt abnormally nervous, trying to recall all his past relationships. Did he kiss her now? Hug her? Hold her hands and look into her eyes, to tell her that they should probably be together? Because he wanted to ask her, oh yes he did.

Paige suddenly hugged him tightly, and he fell back, arms coming out to grab her and hold her in return.

"Thank you, you know. For being so kind to me and all, and talking to me about colors."

Ragnell was a little stunned about her sudden affections, but merely tightened the hug in return.

"… Are we going out now? Could this be, you know, a thing?"

And in that moment, she asked everything he had wanted to ask for the past two weeks, and merely lifted her off the ground and gave a small spin around. "Yes, it could be a thing, Paige, if that is what you desire." Placing her down again as gently as a flower, she held him out, holding his hands to look at his face.

"You know, I really do like that French Braid." He feels his hand shifted as she leaves the napkin inside his fist and turns to go, but then stops.

"... This, well… is my first relationship. I just want you to know that."

Ragnell was surprised. A delicately beautiful young lady such as herself, had been without a boyfriend her whole life?

"I mean, I've had people ask, but nothing ever clicked. So, I haven't been in a solid relationship yet. This'll be the first."

"…It's not my first," Ragnell had to admit, "but I'll make sure it's the best one you'll have."

Paige smiled while releasing his hand to walk home. "That's a big promise, dear."

And with that, she walked off, turning into the silence of the night.

Ragnell sighed heavily, and just as soon as she was out of sight, dug what he had been holding onto as an emergency: a box of cigarettes. Pulling it out and a match, he did his best to light it and took a good, long drag.

"Shit!" Throwing it to the ground and crushing it on the step beneath his heel and scraping it against the stone step, Ragnell uttered a few more choice swears before going inside.

. . .

Ragnell had fallen love with her.

Her charming nature, rainbow hair, and choice of clothing was all so ideal and beautiful. And she was very good with kids, particularly his own. Dennis adored her while they all sat around that table in the art gallery, kids entertaining themselves with the paint while their parents looked around or let them be while they did grocery shopping.

He had to resist the urge to look at her all the time, making sure she was still there and wasn't a figment of his imagination. But his eyes always slid to her after making sure that Terry and Dennis were okay.

Dennis, however, was looking very pleased with his drawing.

"What are you so happy about, Dennis?" Paige knelt down next to him after she noticed the vibrant smile on his face.

"Here!" He held out the picture to Paige who took it. It was a grassy field-

Her eyes froze, fixated on the green that was splattered in messy lines across the bottom of the paper.

"How did you get this green?" Paige said, and Dennis cocked his head, as if he didn't understand how she didn't comprehend basic color theory.

"I mixed blue and yellow! My art teacher taught us about colors yesterday. See, that's me and Daddy at a picnic, and then I need to draw Terry - "

"Here, then, finish it!" Paige knelt down and placed it in front of him with a flourish, distracting him from her shifting a little cup of black paint to be near his painting.

"Okay, miss?" Dennis's voice sounded very meek as he took the paintbrush in hand again. Terry held up his, a picture of a tree with red and orange leaves. It looked so plain and was far better than any of the other kids at the table.

"May I hang this up now, Miss?" Terry waved it, and Paige nodded.

"You painted such lovely branches, by the way!" Taking a piece of tape, she held it up to the wall where other kid's paintings were already hanging. "Is right here fine?"

Ragnell looked over as Terry helped her position the painting just right, and then as she turned and went to help another kid.

He saw her hit that paint cup of black paint, and watched it spill all over Dennis's artwork. Mistake or accident, he was not sure, but his brisk pace brought him over to hopefully prevent Dennis from crying his eyes out. His being there didn't help much.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart! We can make another painting, you'll see!" She got out another sheet of paper and cleared the messy one away faster than anyone could see. Ragnell merely held him a little closer and tighter, and his response was to start gasping for air and slowly stop crying.

Ragnell looked to Paige, with an eyebrow raised. "Why'd you do that?" he asked, trying to see if it was mistake or accident.

"I assure you, it wasn't on purpose," she said, not exactly looking him in the eye as she got a clean paintbrush ready for Dennis and a couple new cups of paint. "I didn't even register it was there."

Ragnell wanted to ask more, but chose to remain silent as he sat Dennis back down. They'd be leaving soon anyway; may as well let him hopefully enjoy his last few minutes there.

The manager, from afar, had witnessed the whole debacle, and now saw Ragnell kneel down with the kids and help a few hang finished drawings up while Paige helped Dennis. Giving a small laugh as they all started pulling on his hair, he sighed. "Yes, her magnetic and charming personality will be perfect."

"Perfect for what, sir?" He heard Tony's voice appear right behind him, and gave a little jump. He never quite got used to Tony's sudden appearances, as if he was his shadow coming to life.

"Ah, Tony! Just the man I wanted to see."

"Me, sir?" He tilted his head a little bit, trying to comprehend why on Earth he would want to be seen.

"Yes, yes, well, see, Miss Paige. I wanted to compliment you on finding her, really. She's done so much for this gallery. Don't you agree?"

"Certainly." Tony's charming smile was back on his face again. "She's brought a lot to this community and more artists in. Her children's centers are also certainly bringing them all together, and getting them invested in art early."

"Yes, yes indeed." The indeed wore off into a sigh, and Tony knew there must be something more. Leaning over slightly, he tried to read the manager's face, but before he could deduce anything, he snapped back to Tony while rapidly unfolding a paper.

"I think, Mr. Anthony Harrison, that you and Miss Paige Witte should represent this small town at the New York ArtExpo!" He held it out proudly, and Tony took it with a surprised look. "I mean, sir, it's an honor, but wouldn't you much rather go?"

"Nonsense, you and Miss Paige make a good pair. I'm sure you'll represent us far better than this old man." He thumped his chest with a sense of pride, which made Tony wonder if he took pride in his older days. He certainly knew that when his own old days came around, he wouldn't take so much pride in them.

Looking over to Paige, wondering when to break the news, he saw Ragnell, playing with the kids as well, letting them pull on his hair and helping another girl with a braid in her hair, just like his.

Seeing him right next to Paige almost made him want to go over and disturb them right now. He had no right to be interfering. But he breathed in… out.

_Calm down, Tony. This is still in schedule. There's no need to plot on how to remove him from the picture._

_All will be well._


End file.
